A Tragic Wreck (Beautiful Mess 2)

“Fine,” she said, walking back up the stairs. “Are you actually ever going to make it to bed? It’s practically three in the afternoon and you were no use to me last night, Alex.”

“I’ll be right there,” he groaned, rolling his eyes as he opened the door, surprised to see Martin standing in the foyer.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir.” He walked into the penthouse and proceeded to the kitchen, grabbing several aspirin and a bottle of water before handing them to Alexander.

“What the fuck, Martin? You think I need a babysitter? I can take care of myself. Plus, why didn’t you just use your code to get in?”

“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t interrupting anything, sir. I tried calling, but you never answered.”

Alexander put the aspirin in his mouth, then drank the water. After nearly finishing the entire bottle, he turned to Martin. “Well, please, by all means, tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.”

Martin took a deep breath. “Do you remember the conversation we had a month ago when…”

“DO NOT SAY HER FUCKING NAME!” Alexander yelled, his eyes wide with fury.

Martin took a step back, tired of dealing with his rather unstable boss. He didn’t know whether or not he should actually inform him what he had come there to tell him.

“Okay…well, you asked me to run her credit cards and keep tracking them to see if they were used at all. For the longest time, the trail has been cold…”

Alexander eyed him suspiciously, his heart rate picking up as Martin continued to talk.

“There's been a hit,” he said, pausing as he gauged Alexander’s reaction to the news. “Her credit card was used a few hours ago at a mall in Jacksonville, Florida.”

Alexander’s eyes went wide.

“And then, just thirty minutes ago, it was used at a liquor store in Amelia Island, Florida.”

Alexander swallowed hard. “Martin,” he said softly. “Can you…”

“Prepare the jet? Already on it, sir. It’s on standby for you as soon as you’re ready.” He turned to leave.

“Martin?” Alexander said, his mind racing, knowing that if he could find her, anyone could.

“Yes, sir?” he replied, turning back to face him.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you before. I know my behavior lately has been a little off.”

“No need to apologize, sir. I just hope it all works out. I’ll be downstairs waiting.”

Alexander ran up the stairs to the bedroom, his heart beating frantically at the idea that he may finally know where his Olivia was.

“It’s about fucking time, Alex,” Chelsea said as he stormed into the master bedroom. She sat on the large bed, watching some crappy gossip show on the giant television. Olivia never watched TV like this, Alexander thought to himself. She always preferred to read. Just thinking about her made his heart break a little bit more, if that was even possible.

“Don’t you have something better to do with your time than watch that rubbish?” he sneered, opening the closet and grabbing a suitcase. He began throwing clothes into it.

“It’s not rubbish. We’re on it from Thursday night at the charity dinner. By the way, it’s a good thing I convinced you to take me because, if I didn’t, you know that Adele would have sunk her claws into you again.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“So, going somewhere?” he heard her ask quietly.

Alexander turned and saw Chelsea standing in the doorway to his closet, her arms crossed. He regretted calling her to come over the previous night, but he was desperate to feel something other than the dull pain that had accompanied so many of his nights recently.

“Yeah. Work thing,” he said quickly before turning back around to resume packing for his mission to find and bring Olivia back home.

Chelsea rolled her eyes and walked over to him, pulling him to her. “Come on, Alex. What is it going to take for you to forget about her?” she asked, running her tongue down his neck. He groaned, his erection that couldn’t be found the night before finally making itself known. “There’s my boy,” she whispered, grinding against him. She slowly removed her silk kimono robe.

“Chelsea,” Alexander whispered. “I can’t.”

She threw her robe to the ground and stood in front of him, totally exposed. “Can’t or won’t?” Pressing her lips against his, she ran her hands through his hair. “I know you want to, Alex. I can feel it.” She brushed his lips with her tongue, begging for permission to enter.

Alexander didn’t know what to do. Yes, he absolutely wanted to fuck Chelsea at that moment just so he could feel something. But he also wanted to get on that plane to try to find Olivia… His Olivia.

“Please, Mr. Burnham. Don’t make me beg,” Chelsea said coyly.

Alexander’s eyes went wide. “What did you say?” His lower lip began to tremble, recalling some rather pleasant memories of Olivia saying the same thing.

Chelsea nuzzled up to his neck. “You heard me.”

He exhaled loudly. “I need to go, Chelsea.” He pushed her away, walking to the bathroom to grab a few things that he would need.

“Fine. Go. Whatever,” she hissed. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wanted something more from you than just an occasional fuck?”

Stopping dead in his tracks, he turned to face her. “What are you talking about, Chelsea? We have a good thing going here.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Sure. Absolutely. Except the part where you scream out her name and not mine when you’re coming. But, you're right. We have a great thing going,” she replied sarcastically, grabbing her clothes that had been discarded on the floor the night before.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he responded quietly, shocked that he had actually been doing that.

“Didn’t know what? Didn’t know that you were calling her name, or that I actually care about you?” she snapped before lowering her voice. “Why are you pushing me away for a girl who ran from you? She left no trace. And now that you have an idea about where she may be, you’re just going to leave and track her down?” She frantically pulled on her jeans and sweater, searching under the bed for her shoes.

“How do you even know?”

“Oh, come on, Alex. Give me some credit. I snooped in on your conversation with Martin.” She grabbed her purse and began heading out of the bedroom.